Seventeen Years Later
by Sophie1989
Summary: One-shot: Harry finds himself staring at his parent's graves in the little graveyard of Godric's Hollow, exactly seventeen years since his first visit. A lot has happened since then, but he's not left alone with his thoughts for long : H/Hr


There was a chill in the small breeze that delicately wound its way around the tiny streets of Godric's Hollow as Harry Potter slowly made his way down the path that led away from his cosy cottage, towards the centre of the village where many of the shops stood. But there were no shops open as he passed them, and it wasn't a great surprise. After all it was late into Christmas Eve. The shops had closed hours ago. Shoppers had bought their final presents, Harry included, and had returned to their homes. Children were now in bed whilst their parents busily wrapped gifts from 'Father Christmas'. Gifts that would be gently placed under the Christmas tree ready for their owners to eagerly come downstairs in the morning and unwrap them.

That's where Harry had left Ginny this evening. In the living room of their cosy cottage, with metres of wrapping paper and selotape, and a nice large glass of mulled wine. They were finally coming to the end of a stressful year. Arthur, Ginny's father, had passed away in his sleep during May, a situation that had shocked the entire family but no more so than his wife Molly, who since then had suddenly become very dependent on her children for support and guidance. It hadn't come at the best time. Ginny had become restless being a stay-at-home mother and had decided during the spring that she wanted to return to the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch Team full time, a decision that hadn't suited the demands of their three children, nor Harry who's newly appointed position as Head of the Auror Office was hardly a walk in the park. After several months of heated discussions about the matter mixed with the tragedy of Arthur's sudden passing meant Ginny had conceded that returning to the competitive, time-consuming job she had once thrived in before falling pregnant with their first born James just over twelve years ago wasn't a move that was in her family's best interest. James was to start at Hogwarts that September so a big change at home would've affected him. Ginny settled for a job working as a Quidditch correspondent for the Daily Prophet. Harry knew it hadn't been what she'd ideally wanted as a job, but it was one she could do from home most of the time apart from taking the Floo network to and from the Quidditch matches she was covering.

Harry turned a corner, listening to the chime of the church bell as his feet crunched through the snow below him, and he stuffed his hands further into his pocket to keep them warm. Walking this direction had become traditional for him every Christmas Eve for the past seventeen years. Ginny never knew anything about it. Nor did she need to, if she did she would only want to go with him for support. But he never needed support. It was only ever a short visit. He just told her the same thing he did every year. That he was just popping out for a little walk to clear his head ready for Christmas. And in a way that was what the walk was for.

As he approached the graveyard he reached a cold hand out, pushed his way through the kissing gate and stepped out onto the fresh snow that had remained untouched for the whole day, or so it seemed. He knew exactly where to walk. He made his way past headstone after headstone, rounding a tree and looking out over to the grave he was aiming for. He felt his heart sink ever so slightly, disappointed that nobody else seemed to be standing there. Harry slowed his footsteps as he approached the grave and took a deep shuddering breath as he stopped and stared down at his parents names. A part of him wished he still possessed the Resurrection Stone. That he could speak to them again like he once had all those years ago. At a time during the Second Wizarding War. That time in the Forbidden Forest. Harry could feel tears prickling his eyes and as he blinked them away he saw flowers appear from nowhere and flutter delicately onto the headstone of his parents grave.

In an instant a small smile appeared in the corner of his mouth as his heart skipped a beat and while taking a deep intake of breath he smelt the sweet floral scent of his best friend's perfume. He turned to his right as Hermione appeared beside him and held his hand in hers. He hadn't seen her in a few months and she looked tired. She and Ron had moved into The Burrow over the summer. It had been decided that the move was in Molly's best interest, who had been struggling to keep the house going since Arthur's death. So Ron, Hermione and their two children Rose and Hugo had all moved into the large old house out in the country side. As Harry looked into her deep brown eyes he couldn't help the smile that still hung on his face as she smiled back at him.

HARRY: Thought you'd forgotten.

He watched with joy as giggle fell out of Hermione's mouth. They may be older, have more responsibilities juggling work with family life, but this moment they had together on Christmas Eve at midnight…well it was as though it was seventeen years ago. Except there was no threat from Voldermort. Or the impending arrival of Batilda Bagshot. No quest to find Horcruxes. Just the two of them, with what felt like all the time in the world.

HERMIONE: Wouldn't miss this tradition for the world.

Her soft words had soothed their way into Harry's ears as he watched her look down thoughtfully at his parents grave. It wasn't just a tradition for him of course, it was a tradition for her too. It was their moment alone to reflect on the past year and think forward to the year ahead. Harry remembered his second visit to the cemetery, a year on from his first, at midnight on Christmas Eve. And he had stood on this very patch of ground with a look of delight and surprise as Hermione apparated beside him. They'd been eighteen. They'd just begun the clear-up of the wizarding world. A clear-up they'd never realise at the time would take years and years to successfully achieve. And she'd told him everything would be okay. That she'd missed this. And Harry had asked what 'this' was…and she'd answered by taking his hand with a smile, uttering two simple words: 'Us time'

Harry stared at the brunette stood beside him. He admired her for clinging to a figure that could hardly boast two children. Her sunken eyes revealed the strain of the past year. Ron had taken his father's death badly and spent most of the evenings in the week at The Leaky Cauldron enjoying beers with the other regulars while Hermione retained her position at home in The Burrow, taking care of the children, the house, or Molly, or all three at the same time. Harry admired her for being able to juggle a family and a full time job all at the same time. She'd always been one for enjoying a heavy workload. He remembered the days in their third year when she'd possessed a time-turner. An object that gave her the ability to go back in time, thus providing her with more time to take extra lessons at school. Since moving into The Burrow, Hermione and Ron hadn't had much time to visit the rest of the family. Any free time they did have was time that Harry and Ginny didn't have. So the two families never had an opportunity to be together. The only time Harry saw Hermione now was at work, after all they both worked for the Ministry of Magic. But they both worked on opposite ends of the magical building on different departments which meant their paths rarely crossed. Which was sad really. Harry had imagined he and Hermione would always see each other, what with being married to Weasley's and working for the same company. But if anything it had meant they saw each other less and less.

HERMIONE: I've been looking forward to this all year if I'm honest.

Harry watched as she turned to look back at him, her brown eyes boring into his green. He'd been looking forward to it too. It had been a long year, their respective lives always becoming too busy or complicated that they never had a chance to stop. To just be calm in the presence of the one person who knew them best. That one person always being the other. It had always been that way since they were kids. During their time at Hogwarts they had mastered an art of reading each others mind. An art that was just as beneficial to them now as it was to them then. It had only not prevailed once in Harry's memory, when they were seventeen, around the time they were on the hunt for Horcruxes. Ron had just left them, having grown too frustrated at the wild goose chase they seemed to be on. Harry remembered sitting in the tent, staring at Hermione who had been curled up in a ball as though all hope had been lost, listening to a song on the radio. Harry never liked to see his best friend unhappy. So with the hope of cheering her up slightly he'd walked over to her and without words had invited her to dance with him to the sway-full song. To his surprise she'd actually obliged. He remembered the feel of the ice-cold Horcrux that he'd removed from around her neck as her eyes had bored into his. He hadn't been sure why they'd looked at him the way they had. A hint of nerves crossed her face as he'd thrown the Horcrux down onto one of the beds and led her into some space by her hands. He'd just wanted to make her smile. To give her hope that everything was going to be okay. And as they pratted about on their makeshift dance floor he'd become elated by the smile that had grown on her face as she'd giggled at the way he'd move himself and her about. He'd held her close, hoping she might not let go, and she hadn't. Instead she'd let him draw her against him, their heads resting on each other's shoulder as they'd slowed their dance down to a small sway. Harry remembered closing his eyes as he'd inhaled the flowery scent of her hair, a scent that always calmed him. A smell he'd so often associated with The Burrow. A scent he'd always associated with Ginny at The Burrow. And as the music had begun to fade out Harry realised that the quality time he'd spent with Hermione over the years at Hogwarts and hunting the Horcruxes, all of her protection, her confidence, her guidance, her support, her _affection_ was suddenly all he'd felt like he needed. It was as though they didn't need anybody else so long as they had each other. And as they'd swayed to a stop he'd felt her head move away from his shoulder. Her face had appeared in front of him, so close he could feel her breath on his skin and he'd watched as she hesitated whilst looking at his lips. His heart had lurched as he'd mentally psyched himself up to kiss her. But he'd take too long, and he'd watched in disappointment as Hermione's face fell before she'd looked away from him… And that was the only time he could recall the failure of their ability to read each others minds. The time when that ability could've been the most useful. The moment she had walked away, Harry had made it his duty to forget the moment of madness that had just happened between them. To persuade himself that Hermione hadn't felt the same way he had in that perfect moment…

Harry felt Hermione squeeze his hand and he took himself out of his daydream memory and back to the reality. The small village cemetery was still there, with the same woman he'd been remembering stood directly beside him, her freezing fingers entwined in his and he gently placed both of their hands in his pocket with the hope that it may warm their fingers up. He heard Hermione sigh heavily, and his heart leapt as he felt her rest her head upon his shoulder. They both looked down at the grave before them. It was the grave that was the excuse they told themselves and each other as to why they were there, neither having the guts to admit that they were actually there for each other. For old times sakes. When life was a tiny bit less complicated. A time before marriage and kids. A time when they were kids themselves. Well…_teenagers_. Now they stood, wrapped together to protect from the cold, as thirty four year olds. Grown ups. Adults.

This time last year had been an awkward moment for both of them. Hermione had actually been in the cemetery before Harry that year. He remembered making his way through the kissing gate, passing several headstones then looking over at the grave to see Hermione stood there motionless, staring over at him with puffy eyes. He'd rushed over to her and she hadn't hesitated in throwing her arms around his neck while Harry pulled her into a strong hug. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had gone into administration the week before and Ron had lost his job along with all his savings in a very short space of time. Depression had hit the man hard and he hadn't been home in over three days. As Harry had pulled away from Hermione she revealed she'd tracked Ron down after sending a howler to The Leaky Cauldron and it had found her husband almost immediately. The children had been unbearably hyper as it was nearing Christmas and Ron's job loss meant that all the pressure was on Hermione to retain enough money through her work to hold her family together. Harry knew it had been too much too soon. That this meet up was going to be the most important to her yet. And the tears had poured from her brown eyes for a further twenty minutes until she had got everything off her chest. The clock of the church had chimed for half past midnight as they'd continued to look at each other in silence. And for some reason the song that had played on the radio when they were seventeen and dancing in the tent suddenly began to drift around in Harry's mind as they gently swayed in the snow. He could tell by the look on Hermione's face that she was remembering the same song and as he began to hum the tune he watched Hermione's face approach his, her eyes on his lips before they closed slowly. Their lips had gently placed together as they continued to sway and for a moment all thoughts in Harry's mind disappeared as he enjoyed his first ever kiss with Hermione.

It had been a long year since then. Neither had had an opportunity to see the other even though they had wanted to. Harry was surprised that their friendship hadn't seemed to have been affected, nor had their respective marriages. The kiss had been a long, deep one that had lasted over five minutes. A kiss that almost felt as though it had been a long time coming. And Harry had wondered what would've happened had he kissed her in the tent all those years ago. How different things might be now. Would they be together? Or would the guilt of betraying Ron's friendship have driven a wedge between them? Once they had parted neither had made an attempt to continue kissing. Instead they had just sighed with big smiles then eventually conceded that they needed to be getting home. Little did Harry know the next time he would see her would be the day after Arthur's death. A time of such sadness.

He watched as Hermione turned to him with a smile on her face. Not a large smile, but a content one and he watched her eyes scan his facial features, from his eyes and glasses, down to his lips and the stubble around them. He could feel his heart increase as he felt her thumb caressing his finger from inside his pocket. Without any warning he felt her other hand reach out and cup his cheek, caressing it slightly with her thumb. He heard her sigh heavily and he knew it was because she was tired. Because she was frustrated. Frustrated with her husband, with the children, with the workload. Harry knew this was the only time Hermione really got to herself. Where there was an opportunity to be herself, and she couldn't even muster the energy to do that. He knew that she missed the time that they spent together. That he would never ask anything of her. It wasn't that he wanted to leave his wife, nor did he want her to leave her husband. Their partners were both good people, with a few flaws here and there. But nobody's perfect. He didn't want divorces, and he didn't want to pursue an affair or relationship with Hermione. Not that he didn't love her or harbour feelings for her. Not that she didn't harbour the same feelings or love for him. It would just ruin their lives if they chose each other over the worlds they both lived in. Their children would become confused that their respective parent and aunt/uncle were suddenly an item. Harry's biggest regret was that opportunity in the tent seventeen years ago. An opportunity he'd wasted. At thirty four they'd be married to each other with several beautiful children. Harry would've supported Hermione in her professional life as well as a family life. Together they could've been happy and invincible. And with that thought Harry brought his face down to Hermione's, kissing her affectionately on the lips. He hadn't hesitated at the action and the passion he held for his best friend intensified as he felt her kiss him back, untangling her hand from his and pulling it out of his pocket to wrap her fingers in his thick black hair. The kiss tonight was more intense than the kiss the year before. As though it meant more to the two friends. As though it was their prize for enduring such a long and terrible year apart. And they were both taking advantage of the opportunity as they explored each other's mouth with their tongues for the first time. As the church bell chimed for quarter to one, their kiss calmed to a stop and the friends stood motionless as they left their lips together, their eyes closed, wanting to soak up every last memory of this kiss before taking one final deep breath and separating.

Harry watched Hermione mirror his small smile as she reached out and tenderly wiped the lipstick marks from around his face. He took the hand that was against his face and kissed it before bringing it to his chest. It had been another perfect moment. Their first kiss last Christmas had been one that he'd thought about constantly over the past year, particularly when he'd been feeling down at work or at home. The taste, the smell, the sight of Hermione was all that he needed to keep himself going for another year.

HARRY: Merry Christmas Hermione.

HERMIONE: Merry Christmas Harry.

And with one final sigh Hermione turned on the spot, Apparating from her position beside Harry, leaving him staring at the space she had once been stood in. Harry cleared his throat and began making his way out of the cemetery, through the kissing gate and past the church, holding a hand up to his lips with a small smile on his face as though all his Christmases had come at once.

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><p><strong>Just a one-shot of how I imagine their lives will be in the future.<br>I'm still a Harry/Hermione fan at heart :)**

**Hope you enjoyed it. A little review would be fab if you did :)  
>I would do another chapter but I've got no idea where it could go and I tend to have a habit of starting stories then taking forever to finish them off..so I'd rather leave this as it is.<strong>

**H&Hr forever (even when they aren't together)!**


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